


Canni-Bullet

by wecarryoninmindpalaces



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chilton is on the run, Forced Cannibalism, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal is trying, Kinda, M/M, Nutri-Bullet, Post Su-zakana, Will Knows, he really is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1509518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wecarryoninmindpalaces/pseuds/wecarryoninmindpalaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will buys himself a Nutri-Bullet so he doesn't have to taste spinach. Hannibal follows Will's logic with a different execution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Canni-Bullet

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my dad convincing me to put spinach into my Nutri-Bullet mix today.  
> Follows after Su-zakana, with (obvious) canon divergence.

The citrus-colored box sitting on Hannibal's kitchen island was slightly off-putting. It didn't belong. Hannibal had wanted it returned to Nordstrom, but Will refused, citing Jack Crawford's desire for him to have a healthier lifestyle. His protein quota was always met, no thanks to Hannibal's cooking, but his produce quota lacked at his own accord. He often complained of headaches and fatigue after only a couple hours of fieldwork, and once almost fainted on Hannibal when he realized he wouldn't make it back to Wolf Trap conscious.

So in came the Nutri-Bullet, whose sleek profile blended in nicely with the kitchen once the box was removed, and each morning Will would put bananas, apples, carrots, and spinach inside his plastic cup with a carton of yogurt and some ice cubes and off he went for work.

"I can't taste the spinach, but I'm still getting all the benefits of it." Will commented one morning as he was putting a lid on the cup so it wouldn't slosh around in his car, "It's ingenious." he glanced down at Hannibal's plate of, for all tenses and purposes, mangled body parts. "How's your...?" he trailed off as Hannibal took his seat in his red sweater and wool pajama pants.

"It's a mix of thigh and bicep, through the grinder." he bit into one, swallowing before continuing, "Savory, but also slightly sweet, I added a teaspoon of salt and a cup of Canadian maple syrup." he glanced over at the uncleaned blade on the counter. 

The younger man tried faking a smile, his complexion a tinge green, "Sounds tasty." he managed to say, or at least he thought he said.

"You'll be late if we keep making idle conversation, Will." his eyes flicked over the oven clock, "I'll clean up, go." and gave Will a peck on the cheek, knowing he would surely clean up much more than he liked if he gave a proper goodbye.

"I'll call you later!" he yelled back as he jogged out the door, leaving his cannibal of a lover alone in the kitchen.

* * *

It was not long after that Hannibal slipped some lung inside Will's smoothie, claiming the consultant was running behind schedule and insisting he make the blended breakfast. The recipe was tweaked as per the doctor's nature, with more banana than any other ingredient for a smoother blend, while the yogurt was kept the same for consistency's sake, though half the quantity of almost everything else was used, the spinach was replaced with the lung. If he couldn't taste the most despised leaf in the history of modern American culture, Hannibal's logic was he probably would not taste the lung, or at most pass it off as the spinach. Blending it room temperature was desirable, tossing the ice in at the last minute for optimal taste. 

"Will, it's ready." Hannibal stirred the concoction with a straw, handing it off to his profiler lover for a taste test, "I did adjust the recipe."

Will glanced at the color, peachier versus Will's normal coloring only described as something the Evil Queen used for her poisoned apple, "I can see that, Hannibal." and took a sip with hesitance, "...It's good, what'd you change?" 

If Hannibal's nonexistent heart fluttered at Will's approval no one had to know. "I doubled the banana, cut everything else in half, you need the potassium. Can you taste the spinach?" lung.

"...No I can't, all I'm tasting is banana and yogurt." he took another sip and Hannibal could see the fat of the lung swirling up past his lips, "You might wanna cut up the banana next time, I'm catching chunks in my straw." and sucked on it a little harder, and Hannibal only nodded thoughtfully, "But it is delicious, thank you." and gave him a chaste kiss.

Hannibal pressed his forehead to the top of the shorter's man head as he pulled away. "Perhaps I should keep making you breakfast?"

Will only nodded, "You surely have the magic touch, Dr. Lecter." he grinned, swiping up the rest of the tumbler and shrugging himself into his coat, "I'll see you later? Jack said you're coming in today to help him?"

He started rinsing out the blender, the steam climbing out in wisps, "That is strictly confidential, Will." he murmured, his hands lathering up in mint soap.

Will realized it was not for the now closed Ripper case, which the couple pinned on Dr. Chilton, who was nowhere to be found after his warrant was slapped across every paper, billboard, and television screen for a seventy-five mile radius. No, it was grief counseling, for Bella. "Right, then I'll see you when I get home, unless you want to ask Jack for me to clock out early."

"I told him a vacation might do you well." Hannibal dried his hands, the faucet stopped with a tap of his forearm. "I was thinking Italy, Venice specifically." 

Will snorted, taking another long sip, "Did you now? I can't just leave."

"Even FBI agents need a vacation, Will, and while you are not an agent you  _are_ a consultant and you  _are_ entitled to the same benefits, a paid vacation being one of them." his voice hardened a tinge.

He finished off his smoothie, placing the tumbler in the sink, his hip nearly touching his lover's, "We can't. The case is closed, you're off the hook, my charges are null and void. There's no reason for us to leave." he checked the oven clock, "Shit, I'm gonna be late." and gave him another kiss, "This conversation isn't over." 

"I didn't think so." Hannibal grinned as Will's lips curled into a smile, "I will collect you from work at two." 

"I look forward to it, Doctor." Will smirked as he let the door slam behind him.

* * *

"Hannibal, show me how to make the stupid thing, would you?" Will would indignantly ask him about a month later after a dinner consisting of salad and pork tenderloin- actual pork tenderloin, for Will's sake.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, "Why the sudden interest in how I prepare your breakfast? Is there something you are not particularly fond of?"

Will chuckled, "Yeah, I'm not fond of lung in my breakfast, thank you."

And the corners of Hannibal's mouth slowly tugged upwards, leaning over the head of the table as if he would lunge for his lover, "How long have you known?"

"Since the first time." he shrugged.

"Why would you continue eating it if you knew."

"I liked the taste." Will grinned. 

Hannibal was almost relieved, if he hadn't known Jack was going to appear at the door any minute now with news of Chilton. "We will discuss this after Jack leaves, I can hear his car."

"Is this why we are eating actual pork? You really think Jack is going to test the food?"

"Never can be too careful." Hannibal gave a knowing smile as the door creaked opened, "Which is why I wish you would put the safety lock on that pistol of yours."

Will bit back the sex joke rising in his throat, no need to make Jack more uncomfortable than he most likely was. "Safety is for those who don't know how to carry one." he countered, tilting his chin up in recognition as Jack unbuttoned his coat and removed his hat, "Jack, nice to see you."

"Sorry to interrupt your meal, ah, tenderloin?" Jack glanced at the plate quickly, garnished with cooked carrots and mint. 

"Yes, there's one piece left in the kitchen, I was not sure if you had eaten yet." Hannibal stood to greet the agent, "Do you have the time?" 

"If I could get it to go?" Jack smiled slightly as Hannibal returned the goodwill, making his way to the kitchen, leaving the partners to themselves. "We found Chilton. Something finally came up." he finally said.

Will pulled out the seat next to him, and Jack sat, "Where?"

"He was pulled from a flight out of JFK to Venice. He paid in cash, had a forged passport, the typical. Some businessman over at the Delta counter recognized him from the no fly list, took proper action." 

"Sure the new outlets are having a field day." Will mumbled. 

"Like hell they are. If I had my iPad I could show you the Post's spin on it, had a nice pun." 

"I'd like to personally reward the man, whoever he is, for assisting in Chilton's arrest." Hannibal mentioned as he returned with a china plate covered with a plastic dome, similar to one from the night of the dinner party.

"John Smith, literally, is his name, he's a Delta operations manager based out of Long Island-"

"Don't tell me you investigated him." Will shook his head.

"We didn't- the Post did." Jack frowned, "Told them his daughter was checking in next to him, she spotted red flags almost instantly. Paying in cash, shifty eyes, unusually argumentative with the employees, "he looked like hell" she said. She called her father because she was afraid no one would listen to her." 

"Clever." Hannibal's smile was polite, "Please, Jack, if you could get in contact with Ms. Smith, I'd be grateful, and I'm sure she would be, too."

Jack mumbled, "Oh you have no idea. I am only happy you two decided against your early vacation, he must have caught word from someone out at the bureau you would be there and I will make sure appropriate action is taken."

"...When Chilton was hiding out in my home, I mentioned the trip. He must have assumed we were already there, and that he could track us down." Will gave a shaky sigh for good measure. He wasn't lying, he had mentioned Italy in the hopes it would eventually bring the doctor with questionable practices back to civilization.

"Can we use that in a statement?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"If you must." 

"Good," the agent weighed the plate in his hands before tucking it under his arm. "Feel free to take that vacation now, Will, Dr. Lecter," he chuckled, "you've surely earned it." 

Hannibal cleared his throat, "I know I accept it gladly, this case was extremely taxing on Will and myself- for very different reasons, of course." 

Will glanced back at Hannibal, fighting the smug grin so desperately wanting to be set free. "But that's all behind us, isn't it, Doctor Lecter?" 

And in a moment of quick thinking, Hannibal reached for the youngest man's hand, grasping it tightly, "I believe it is, my dear Will." and planted a kiss on his knuckles. 

Jack coughed into his sleeve, "You have two weeks. Enjoy your vacation, gentlemen. I will return the plate upon your return, Doctor."

"There will be no need for that, Jack," he shook his head, "keep it." 

* * *

One month later, resignation papers that had been faxed to Jack's office two weeks previous were finally viewed. Jack knew this would happen, he just refused to see it. Like Will's innocence. Like Beverly's murder. Like Hannibal's near execution.  As it turned out their "vacation" consisted of eloping in the Netherlands and residing in Italy. 

 _We planned to stay in Venice, though it was Will's insistence that we marry in the Netherlands, as the culture is more accepting and the Italians are still textbook Catholics._ Hannibal's flowing script explained and went on about other matters of planning for Will's expedited dual citizenship just as he had been granted years ago. But had also included his fear of Will not recovering from his traumatic experience, citing a change of location would do him well. 

Earlier that day photographs had been mailed in, cleared by security, from an address in Venice- including one of Will and Hannibal in matching black tuxedos, sipping on champagne, though most were of their new home in Santa Croce, an apartment overlooking the Grand Canal and of Will painting as he "consulted" on how to remodel the home in their image, writing on the back of a photograph of their newly remodeled kitchen (that was all Hannibal's, no doubt) theirs hopes of him making the trip at least once. Jack only rubbed his temples and prayed for no more serial killers. 

The second half of Hannibal's latter relayed what Jack had concluded: Will's home in Wolf Trap was to be sold, the dogs to be split amongst their former co-workers, with Alana also acquiring one for Apple Sauce's company. Hannibal's home would be rented out, fully furnished, though all of his artwork and culinary supplies were to be shipped to the new apartment. The matter of Hannibal's office was still an issue, the lease not ending for another year. The patients had already been given referrals, and the rent was direct deposit, the good doctor offered the office as a private suite for the team. Everything "confidential" had been either destroyed or packed away with aforementioned artwork. 

_You have my deepest gratitude, Agent Crawford, and I-_

"Jack?" Alana's heels clicked as she tossed him his coat, "It's past two in the morning, c'mon, you have to go home." 

He peeled his eyes away from the paper, finally placing it down and in the middle of the glass table, "Maybe Hannibal's right. Maybe this is all necessary for Will's well-being."

"He knows what he's doing, I can assure you." she replied bitterly. 

He turned to her, "I'm sorry, Alana." 

She only turned her head, "It was prearranged, I knew what he was doing. I knew it was all for Frederick's arrest, and yet my heart still got in the way." 

"You've known him longer than all of us, I know it must hurt."

"I'll survive." she gave a halfhearted smile, "As long as Will is fine, I'm fine. I know Hannibal is good, and he'll do what's best. For the both of them." 

On the other side of the world, at eight o'clock in the morning, Will was tearing down the last of the offending wallpaper, "Hannibal, what color did you decide on?" it was domestic bliss, Will free to roam the city and be a homemaker, which came with surprising ease, while Hannibal was already planning for another practice, another hunt. 

"I think I still like the grey from the dining room, don't you think?" 

Will nodded, taking the paint can and making a quick stroke of his brush across the wall facing the canal, a casual reminder to clean off the remainder of the glue before he continued on, "Whatever you want, Hannibal. Wait- when does the Nutri-Bullet come in?" 

"Sometime later this week, with my carving set." the older man noted, boxcutter in hand as he unpacked the next shipment of culinary paraphernalia. 

"I want kidney." Will sighed, "It's been too long."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, a small smirk forming, "Kidney pie for breakfast? Someone's natural clock is still stateside." and reached into the refrigerator.

"When did you-?"

"You were asleep. He was in his final days, asked me to collect his body, turn him into art." 

"I never knew you were into mercy killings, Doctor." 

"I'm not." and returned holding a kidney, packaged away like a butcher would preserve a fine cut of steak, "When my carving set arrives, then we will eat at home. Til then, would you like to try a true Italian breakfast?" Will had become homesick, and for days was munching on McDonald's and other nasty American food that would never stop following the couple.

"That would be nice, since I've been up for the past two hours tearing this offending wallpaper off for you."

Hannibal chuckled, "Come, there's a lovely cafe not too far from the house." 

"Did you think of everything when buying this house?" 

"Not everything." he sighed, holding the door open for his husband, "Teatro alla Scala is nearly three hours away from here."

Will rolled his eyes, "C'mon, show me this cafe and tell me about your trip here as a young man on holiday and how you met a vagabond that taught you the meaning of life, would you?"

Hannibal chuckled, closing the door behind them, "It was not a vagabond, it was a grocer." 

"Either way, come  _on."_

The carving set arrived later that day, and that was the end of eating out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't entirely sure how to end, so there it is. If I think of anything better, I'll edit it, but til then that's the end.


End file.
